


20 Minutes

by ReduxCath



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Snowy - Freeform, Tea, addis cares a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26607178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReduxCath/pseuds/ReduxCath
Summary: It is the start of winter. The year is close to ending, the grass is sprinkled with white, and Addis shares a moment with his lord in his garden.(Serves as a bit of an Addis character study)
Relationships: Addis/Ieyasu (Dragalia Lost)
Kudos: 8





	20 Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> I had this in my drafts for a long while, and I wanted to finish it. I love these two so much. Critiques are more than welcome.

_Snow on the capital_

_You sleep as the white piles on_

_And I guard your door_

Addis always rose early.

He stretched as he felt the cool early morning air, invigorating himself with every soft grunt that escaped his teeth. With that out of the way, he slowly moved his hands down let himself sit upon the floor. The man got into position and began to breathe slowly, making sure to raise his awareness of himself over every bit of his body. He was always aware, of course. All of his movements had since become deliberate and controlled. But a disciplined body requires the repetition of good practices, and so he always began his mornings in this way.

Some would call it excessive. He was, after all, considered by many to be a fine samurai.

But the accolades of most others mattered little to him. He was a man with a set of standards, and he would go through the patient work of upkeeping them for 1,000 years before even thinking about letting himself backslide.

After all, he did not live for himself anymore.

Opening his eyes, his breathing was different from before. Even, deeper. He was ready. The black samurai rose from where he sat and set about his early morning chores. Put away the futon. Fold the cover. Let the spider that had wandered inside out into the yard (his oath forbade the needless taking of life). Wash his body, tend to his hair. He reserved a lot of time in the pre-dawn for this activity. After all, he always sought to be prepared for his lord, and that included looking the part of a dutiful retainer. Every second that Addis devoted to his hair was to make sure that he shone with the glory of the Boar House.

For his own sake.

For his young lord’s sake.

Collecting mana in his palms and slowly combing with his fingers, he dragged out moisture from the air using his nails, making sure the water flew down his calloused fingers and into the creases in his palms. Using just enough of a pulse, he wove the water into his hair. Whatever parts needed to be refreshed would soak up the moisture, and the rest would exit out the ends. It was a technique of hair care common in the land where he came from, and served many social functions, from camaraderie building to measuring one’s level of fine mana control. His natural disposition to wind made the activity somewhat more difficult than someone with water control would find it, but all people find methods to get the results they desire. It was about the principle, the ingenuity of it all.

Back when he’d been young, he hadn’t cared much about himself, hadn’t seen the point in taking care of himself past what was absolutely necessary to survive—but there was the fatal flaw in that logic. He had sought the strength of beasts to protect himself and intimidate those who would hurt him, but in the process had lowered himself to the point where he’d been at a moral precipice. Taking care of one’s hair, one’s body and mind, was no task of simple vanity. It was another aspect of proper maintenance and proper respect towards the physical form.

To put it plainly, actually giving a damn about himself let him stand taller.

His only regret, of course, was that he took so long to learn the value of caring—about himself, about other people.

But as he put his clips of sliver in his hair and felt their familiar weights as they hung down on his back, Addis stood and shook off the weight of the past. It would never leave him, of course. But today was a new day, and he had changed.

He had become someone he could be proud of, and as he unfolded his clothes and dutifully put them on, he employed a skill he had obtained since discovering this more substantive maturity. With every knot he tied, he slowly dipped himself further and further into his role of samurai and guard. Slowly, slowly, until he put on his haori and exhaled, his breath exiting his mouth like a bit of mist in this cold morning.

Opening the door to his room, he bit his lip. It really _was_ cold today. That explained why he had to pull somewhat harder at the atmosphere. The man buried his nose deeper into his scarf, and coated his body in a thin layer of mana. Someone with a proclivity to flame would no doubt stoke their mana within the furnace of their chests, but wind was equally adept at regulating the temperature of the air. Another good survival skill.

It was the start of winter, and the gods were setting their white blanket over the grass, the rocks, and the dirt. Inside the palace, it was somewhat warm, and the good custodians would never allow any of the snow to settle inside, but as Addis walked across the waxed wooden floor and felt the cold try to bite through his reinforced tabi and reach his toes and heels, he reflected on his lord’s personal garden. Would the sand be hidden under this first snow, with the bonsai tree peeking its green out from the snow like a maiden would from under the hood of her winter coat?

He checked the time with his pocket watch, and concluded that he had enough time to take a peek at the tree before he had to meet with Sazanka at their young lord’s door.

Picking up his pace just slightly, yet never increasing the volume of his steps (every moment was a chance to train), Addis walked through the halls. He met respectful nod with respectful nod, acknowledging the other dutiful servants who were also awake at this hour. He and Sazanka were not the only people devoted to their lord. Everyone here was. If the Boar Clan had to call only one thing to its name and call it glory, it would be their loyalty. As far as Addis knew (and was concerned), the other clans, though fine, did not exhibit the level of camaraderie and devotion that his did.

“Master Addis.” An older man greeted him, bowing.

“Master Yamamiya.” He bowed in turn.

And their paths merged.

“Brrr!!” The older man rubbed his hands together, smiling wickedly. "Winter comes with a vengance this year, doesn't it?"

"As it always does." Addis nodded. The season was tough no matter what part of the world one lived in. Families stockpiled food and kept together to survive. No matter where one was, winter was always regarded with similar notions of preparedness and frugality. It was why, with barely a thought, he had changed from his usual haori to one that was thicker in weave. 

"Yet, you walk as though you were made of summer." Master Yamamiya always kept his eyes slightly closed (it was a rumor among the cadets that he would teach them secret techniques if they ever got him to open them fully during training). His hair would blend in perfectly with the snow were it not for the traces of black and grey with it. "Where are you off to at this hour?"

“I wanted to check on my young lord’s garden. This snow is quite heavy, you see.” Walking alongside this man was always welcome, and he found himself slowing down just a tad. “And yourself? Off to the training grounds?”

A sharp wheeze of a laugh. He was easy to read, once one knew how. “But of course! If the new recruits don’t know how to handle themselves in this kind of weather, they’ll never amount to anything.” That was the kind of man he was, wasn’t he? No excuses, no whining. And though Addis had never once _whined_ during his training with Master Yamamiya, the grueling memories were fresh in his mind. That was why he was walking in time with this distinguished swordsman. Being rude would not do. “But my, your devotion is always so inspiring, Master Addis! You always go beyond what is strictly expected! If my students had half the drive you hold, _well.”_

Addis shook his head. “I simply do what I must.” But he did spare a direct look towards the older man. “Still, I shall never get used to hearing you of all people call me ‘master’.”

At that, Master Yamamiya rolled his eyes. “How many times must I tell you? When you earn something, you earn it.”

Addis simply bowed as they reached the juncture in their paths. The training grounds were over by the eastern block, while his young lord’s quarters and private garden were further north. His old master called out to him. “You’re a fresh crop by sunrise, and a burnt one by moonrise!”

Yes, some would call his humility excessive.

But Addis did what he did for something—for someone—other than himself.

He hurried on.

Slipping across the smooth floors with the speed of a breeze, the samurai reached the entrance to the garden—and tensed. The door was closed, but his careful eyes noted that the lock had been recently touched. It would not be strange to find attendants cleaning the wooden deck, but this carelessness was not something exhibited by a servant of the castle.

Slowly, he shifted his mana from his skin to his arms and legs, the bite of the cold shocking him to complete focus. Whatever he had to do in that room, he would do so with grace befitting the Boar of Heaven.

Addis opened the door, slipped inside, making use of the shadows, becoming as silent as the snow which fell atop—

“Good morning, Addis.”

The sound of his voice seemed to push the shadows surrounding his body away. Addis waited one heartbeat. Then two. Then, he turned the full corner and saw his young lord sitting at the edge of the deck, already fully dressed, with a boar skin cloak covering his thin, strong frame. He turned, and those hazel eyes smiled in his direction. “You may sheathe your sword.”

He was immediately at his side, head down at the perfect angle, forearm atop his knee, sword fully sheathed. “My lord, please forgive my—.”

“There is no trouble.” He waved his concern away with a gentle hand. And then, with that same hand, gestured to the space next to him. “Sit with me.”

As it was a request from Lord Ieyasu, Addis complied. He quickly and methodically kneeled and sat on his legs, facing the garden.

There was only a small pile of coin’s worth of space between the two men. Large enough to house a circular tray with two ceramic cups and a hot pot of tea.

The zen garden was filled with the soft, almost imperceptible sound of snowfall, and the background hum of the morning breeze gently carrying the snow over the walls and onto the meditative area. It was all accented by the deer scarer’s slow, rhythmic sounds, protected from much of the falling snow by a spell placed over it. Had this been an intruder, Addis had prepared himself to take advantage of a single _tap_ of the bamboo tube to disable them and grill them for information.

But there was no intruder here.

Only his lord, drinking a cup of warm tea.

“Lord Ieyasu.”

“Yes?”

He still felt like he had to apologize. “I had thought there was an intruder in your garden. Please, forgive me interruption of your meditation.” It was, of course, not his place to question why his master wished to meditate in this cold weather. Nor why he wished to do it alone, without the presence of his two retainers keeping watch. He would trust his lord’s judgement, as he trusted him in everything. And so, Addis bowed his head slightly in contrition.

“I was not meditating in earnest. You did nothing wrong.” Addis was, of course, no fool. He knew there were many different styles of meditation—but the Boar House’s nobility was trained in a form of mental cultivation that required silence and active probing into the soul.

It was not his place to question his lord.

Nor his place to worry about him unnecessarily.

It was not his place to overstep his boundaries, but…

“You can speak freely, you know.” Those hazel eyes (with their flecks of gold) turned to him.

“Y-You,” Addis pushed down the shameful burst of heat that flowed up his chest and neck towards his face. “you had not given me permission, my lord.”

“Then I give it.” He said. _As many times as I need to_ , his eyes seemed to say.

He was not pressuring him. Those wise eyes looked forward towards the silent snow, towards the bonsai tree which dressed itself like a maiden at a wedding. Lord Ieyasu was part of a generation of Wyrmclan Leaders that were known to treat their retainers with the casual nature of modern youths. Some elders called it a new style of leadership befitting changing times. Others bemoaned the lack of adherence to social code and status, fearing condemnation from Heaven. Addis himself knew in his heart that, if Lord Ieyasu wished it, they would speak only in terms of lord and retainer for the rest of their days.

But perhaps that more encompassing attitude was not simply a part of ‘changing times’. And perhaps, even though Addis was perfectly willing to serve his master in 100 different ways, he would have to content himself with serving him in the one way he wished to be served.

And so, after a moment where he took a breath, warmed the air in his lungs, and sent it back out as a swirl of visible mist, the swordsman let his shoulders relax ever so slightly. “…If you needed to meditate this early, L—“ it was hard. It was _so_ hard to be consistent in his styles of speech, especially when this man was his lord in both official and personal capacity. “—we would have gladly sat with you here, Ieyasu…”

After a strained moment, he closed his eyes. “… _Lord_ Ieyasu.”

His lord smiled. Laughed a little at his predicament. And Addis sent him a frown. Even if he begged him to, even if the wildest possible situation came true, Addis would still refer to Lord Ieyasu properly. It was not a simple matter of social adherence, but one of the ways in which he showed his devotion. Sazanka may be more flexible, but that was not Addis’s style at all. Luckily, the other man understood him. “I should mayhaps cease teasing you like this, no?”

“It would be appreciated,” Addis grumbled, no longer able to keep his cheeks from feeling hot.

But even this terrible feeling was good in the face of that smile.

“I simply,” his lord spoke as he refilled his cup slowly. As Lord Ieyasu turned and bent down to pour himself a cup (Addis knew he preferred to do these things himself when he could), Addis could not help but observe the way the soft light of the morning danced atop his nose and eyelashes. He turned his eyes back to the snow to cool the flames being fanned by the wind of his heart. “wanted a moment to myself. I was not trying to avoid anyone specifically.”

“Should I leave you to your privacy?” Addis clenched his hands softly, looking deeper into the snow.

But then, he noticed that the sound of pouring tea went on for longer than a single cup could hold. Turning his eyes again, he was met with his lord’s face, smiling, as he held up another cup of fresh tea. “I would prefer you did not.”

The cold seeped past his skin. Into his bones and lungs, made it hard to breathe as he blinked at the offered cup. Yet, like the story of the man who survived nights atop an icy mountain by looking at a far-away fire, Addis felt his cheeks bloom with heat as he looked at the softly steaming cup.

When his fingers touched the warm ceramic, they stopped trembling “You need not pour for someone like me.” And he _did_ mean it honestly. Where some would simply accept the offering and shut their mouths, Addis wanted to convey his emotions. After all, his lord wished him to—and if that was the case, he had no reason to hold his opinions back.

“Can I not do as I please in my own castle?” Ieyasu asked him, eyes mischievous.

Addis was not wise enough, however, and became very flustered. “N-No! I only meant—”

“I’m _kidding_ , friend.” He put his hand on his shoulder, chuckling.

The black samurai nodded. Both men turned away, and he looked at the snow once more.

It was a cold thing, snow.

Silent. Serene. Full of grace in its deadliness.

But as Addis drank the tea and felt the taste of the sturdy earth through the rich cherry blossoms, he saw the garden as it would look in the springtime. Amaterasu would shine Her light down through the clouds. The sky would be blue with joy, and the air would be warm as the cherry trees bloomed.

For such an image to appear in his head during this weather…. “…Did you brew this, my lord?”

“I did. I wanted to listen to the stillness with something warm.” The cups they were using were fashioned out of a rich and sturdy stone. Hinomotoan tradition dictated that a tea set be ideally formed from the same large stone. If this was impossible, then the stones _had_ to come from the same river, at the very least. The more expensive the tea set, the more likely it was that the stone used to make it was not just of quality, but the same stone overall.

There was no question that a house like the Boar’s, so well-respected, would be able to afford a tea set of good quality. And there was no question that the tea set used by the leader of the Boar Wyrmclan would be hewn from the same source.

…The thought that he was holding the same stone that his lord was holding at this moment was far too much, and he was unable to keep the warmth of the tea in his stomach from spreading throughout his entire body. 

The castle of the Boar Clan would, in just over 20 minutes, become full of life and activity. In just over 20 minutes, the hustle and bustle of the day would begin in earnest. Master Yamamiya would begin drilling his students. The doors would be open for important guests and dignitaries. And Lord Ieyasu would enter into the flow of his work. Addis already knew his lord’s schedule for the day. And it was a busy one indeed.

The man opened his mouth…

…and closed it.

His fingers gripped the cup ever so slightly harder.

“Did you like the flavor?”

In 20 minutes, he would stand proudly behind his lord and walk with him to his chambers.

But that was 20 minutes from now.

Addis put the cup to his lips, and sighed, warm and content. “I did. Thank you.”


End file.
